Harry Potter and the Light of Merlin
by sugarplumfairy7
Summary: (6th year) Harry returns to Hogwarts and will face the challange of his life, against his greatest foe. Please R&R! Note: I claim none of this as mine, I own nothing (sigh)
1. Guilt and Suprises

A tall, lanky, sixteen-year-old boy sat staring out of an upstairs window into the pouring rain. A mess of untamable dark hair obscured his vision, and he readjusted his oft-broken glasses so that he could see better. He didn't really know what he was waiting for. Not that he would see Voldemort traipsing down Privet Drive, when he had been told explicitly that he, Harry Potter, could not be touched at his aunt's house.  
  
The summer had begun horribly, despite the Dursley's constant fear that their house would suddenly spontaneously combust, or be raided by dark wizards. His cousin now regarded him as a kind of conspiracy, and glanced away whenever Harry caught him looking. He didn't even have the heart to torment his cousin, though he did not no why, last year he would have welcomed the chance, he did welcome the chance.  
  
Oh yes, a traitorous voice inside his head reminded him. You know why you feel as you do. Sirius is dead, and it is all your fault.  
  
"Stop!" Harry whispered aloud, but he knew, no matter what Dumbledore said, that the sick feeling he'd carried all summer was guilt, dread, and the knowledge that Voldemort could share his mind, read his thoughts as simply as he could read a book.  
  
He shoved the thoughts away, and turned to his homework, but, not to his disgust, he found he could not do that either. He let the books fall to the floor with a resounding crash, and waited. Moments later he heard the house beneath him groan as his Aunt and Uncle raced about, fearing the worst had happened, that people of Harry's kind, witches and wizards, had penetrated their home. Hedwig glared at Harry indignantly, but he did not respond, only sat, waiting with infinite patience.  
  
The door flew open, and his Uncle Vernon stood on the threshold, livid with rage and frustration. "ARE YOU MAD? THROWING THINGS AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT? CAUSING YOUR AUNT AND I EVEN MORE INCONVIENENCE?" Harry didn't move, but looked fixedly at the floor, not really caring what happened next. His uncle, bothered by Harry's lack of response all summer to taunts, jabs and snide remarks about people who "got what they had coming to them", had finally snapped. He tore about Harry's room throwing things, stamping on the spell books that lay strewn about the rug, and yelling out insults. Harry glanced up, chancing a peek at the clock on the wall before his uncle reached that and broke it too.  
  
He stood lazily, stretching his arms over his head, and at leisure left the room, followed closely by the Dursleys, all of whom were now present, and all of whom were fixated on their outcast member. Guilt had given way to exercise; the only thing that had managed to take Harry's mind off Sirius' death had been hours of push-ups and crunches. His body was now well- muscled, in prime Quidditch condition. He made his way down the stairs, slowly, because he was tired, and also to prolong the hours in which he would spend in his room, pondering death, life, and several other subjects, one of which was Cho Chang.  
  
You don't care for her now, do you? But why? He asked his own mind. Why don't I? Am I such an insensitive prat that I don't care if I broke her heart? Some heart to break though, the stupid girl. Yes, she was better off gone, done for. But still Harry wondered about girls. Were they all like that? He didn't want one close to him if that was the case. Hermione though, she was different. Not really like a girl, but a comrade, a trusted ally.  
  
Harry realized he was standing in the kitchen, holding a glass of milk. The three Dursleys all stood mutely in the doorway. "Hullo." He said plainly. "Who's Hermione? Your girlfriend?" Dudley asked, tauntingly, but fearfully as well. Did I say that out loud? Harry wondered briefly. And then the thought My girlfriend? Hermione? He laughed aloud, and Dudley jumped. "No, but a friend, more than you'll ever manage. What girl would want to come near you, Dinky-Diddykums?" That was the greatest insult Harry could muster at this moment. He trudged wearily back to his room, and the Dursleys, to his great relief, did not follow. He did not know what he would have done had he been forced to entertain them all night.  
  
He was about to throw himself contemptuously onto the bed when he realized someone was already sleeping on it. He recognized the fire-red hair, and the countless freckles. He shook his guest awake, and started when the figure sat up at once.  
  
"Oh, hello then." Said Ginny Weasly. 


	2. Ginny's Tale

"What-what are-" Harry's mouth opened and yet, no sound came out. He gulped, and then, casting a nervous glance at the door, lowered his voice. "What are you doing here?" He whispered, she looked stricken for a moment, and he regretted the question instantly. Ginny was Ron's brother, and intelligent at that. She couldn't have, wouldn't have come without a good reason.His mind blanked, and then suddenly his stomach dropped. Was it possible that the Order of the Phoenix, the secret faction determined to bring down Voldemort, had been found? Had Ginny perhaps, been the sole survivor of an attack? These thoughts must have registered briefly across his face, for Ginny shook her head soundly. "No, no, it's nothing like that." She whispered conspiratorially, so low he had to lean in to hear. "Nothings happened-to-to-mum and dad. Well, nothing like-like-that. No one's dead, if that's what you're thinking. I'll tell you all of it, but can I just stay for a night? Only one night?" She was pleading, and Harry, for the first time in months was not concentrating on guilt or shame, but a burning curiosity a need to know what was happening in the outside world. He had spent, he realized, a good amount of time locked within himself.  
  
But that was not his concern now. He had a fifteen year old girl half asleep on his bed, and he himself was wide awake. He pondered the situation for a moment, and then said, softly, so as not to wake the Dursleys, "Ok, but we write Ron tonight to tell him you're here." "He knows already, I think. Write him if you want, he's at Hermione's home though." Ginny said this so matter-of-factly he did not actually register these words for a moment. "Hermione's? What's he doing there?" There were so many questions that demanded answers, and yet he saw her sliding into slumber before him, her eyes fighting to stay open. He, Harry, would have to wait. She fell asleep quickly when the light was put out, but Harry sat up at the window, out into the rain long into the night.  
  
The next morning Harry found the young redhead snugly wrapped in his sheets. She was no dream, no apparition of insomnia, but indeed, the youngest Weasly child. He snuck silently down the stairs and stole food from the Dursley's pantry, hopping slightly over the creaking stair. When she awoke he offered food, and did not speak until she had eaten most of her breakfast. "Why is Ron at Hermione's? Why are you here? How did you get here?" He spoke so quickly, the words tumbling from his mouth, that he doubted she could understand them all at once. She held up a hand, cleared her throat, and began to speak, softly, but slowly and clearly so that he could hear every word. "I'll answer it all, but I have to begin at the beginning. Is that alright?" She paused, waiting for his assuring nod. "Good. So then, you understood last year that my family was-upset-at Percy for breaking with the family? My father was not just upset, he was enraged. Percy was like the devil, a dirty swear word, and my mother-she was a wreck, she felt like she'd failed in bringing up a good son. Percy sent some pretty nasty letter to them, especially after Fred and George dropped out. He told them things like 'at least you have one good son left, even if you don't acknowledge him', and he made snide remarks about the twins' joke shop. He was always jealous of them. He worked so hard because he felt alone in our family. Bill and Charlie were a pair, Fred and George, obviously, and then there was Ron and me, not really paired together but locked in as the babies. So, in any event, he was pretty much the rotten apple for those months that he worked for Fudge. But when term ended, after, after we got back, you know, after-well, after Sirius died, and he found out he was the only one who didn't know all of the Order's secrets he felt even more left out of the family. So he came home as the prodigal son, and he acted as though he had been Disillusioned. He hung on Dad's words; he admired Bill and Charlie even more than usual. He flattered the twins, but they pretty much saw through it, they never cared much about praise anyway. He never spoke to me or Ron, and as you can imagine, we weren't too pleased. Dad and Mum were very into 'forget and forgive', and I, well, I wasn't. I felt like a spoilt teenager, but I just don't trust him. Then Ron got a letter from Hermione and he just sprints to Mum and begged to go to her house for the week. She refused at first, saying she wanted the whole family to be together for this summer. Percy, however, said Ron should go, and he coloured up quite a bit, I think he fancies Hermione, you know. Anyhow, Percy told Mum it would be nasty for Ron to be kept at home all summer, and it was about time he got himself a friend besides you. I personally think he wanted Ron out of the way, because, you see, if Ron is not there, then you can't be there, and he doesn't want to see you, Harry." She hesitated, and looked at him for a moment. "Why doesn't he want to see me?" Harry inquired. "Oh, I suspect he's ashamed of the way he called you a liar, and well, you saw the letter he wrote to Ron about you being a few cards short of a full deck, he doesn't want to talk about Dumbledore either. Anyhow, I caught him going through Ron's things the other night, and when I told Dad, he ignored me. He said I wanted attention. Then Percy was there 'comforting' me and saying he knew exactly what I was going through, and I-I-snapped. I called him a liar and a sneak and I said he didn't deserve to come home that he should have gone to live with Fudge!" Her face flushed with anger, and her hair looked vividly dangerous. "I yelled it to his face, what all of us wanted to say but didn't! He-he-he wasn't pleased, and neither was Mum. She said I could go out and 'think about what I have said'. I marched out the door, and I stuck out my wand. The knight bus burst out of nowhere, you've ridden it before, and you know what it's like, all purple and lurching everywhere. I got off at the one place I figure they'd never look, a muggle street. Your street. Getting in your room wasn't hard, Fred and George had given me a handy little gadget-a set of lock picks bewitched to open anything, trunks, doors, and even," She glanced at his window, "windows. So you see, I'm here on a bit of an impulse, but I hinted to Ron in my last letter that I might not be home when he came back. He'll probably guess where I came. Fred and George too, but they'll keep quiet. So, Harry, what comes next?" 


End file.
